[The Truth Tellers]

[Yongsan District, Seoul]

[2018]

/At first it's just a ratty wall with a bunch of pock marks. We see a bit of the room, which resembles a student’s dorm. Pan further down, and we see our protagonist, Im Taewoong, standing in the doorway of the kitchen./

/Taewoong is dressed casually in an old aviator jacket with faux fur trim, plain white tee, and high rise jeans. He has a metal stud on his left brow, medium-length dark hair, and light stubble. His eyes are large and alert, and he might be considered handsome if he wasn’t so surly. At first, he is looking in the opposite direction from the viewer, towards the interior, and thinking about something. Then, a voice calls from offscreen./

M: Mind if I come in?

T: Sure, I don't live here - 

Oh.

/The person talking opens the door and steps over the threshold. He is tall, with a high forehead and dark wavy hair that goes past his shoulders. The outfit of the day is, rather chaotically, an Inverness cape with a graphic sweater, but somehow he makes it work. One hand is gloved and carrying a large bag, the other hand is covered in custom-made rings. With him, he brings the outside chill./

/Taewoong stares from across the hall and knows it is his old friend, Lee Myungyong. Except, it’s not. “Myungie”, as he used to call him, has the telltale signs of someone who is obscenely rich now. Starting with those dumb sunglasses./

/Even though it's not Taewoong's house, he tries to make Myungie a cup of tea. He wipes down the electric stovetop to get a pot of water going./

/Myungie is standing in the kitchen doorway now, maybe giving Taewoong a wide berth, maybe reminiscing. Suddenly Taewoong says,/

T: If you die, I'm not responsible.

M: Why? 

I'm pretty sure you can make a cup of tea.

T: Not that. 

A roach walked over this burner. 

M: ...A roach?

How can you tell?

T: Look. 

/Taewoong points at a dark line where a roach had clearly dragged its body over the surface./

T: At least it cleaned up the dust bunnies along the way. 

That's more than you used to do.  

M: Oh, damn. 

What a fucking nightmare. 

Ha! Ha!

/Myungie walks away chuckling. Taewoong, who is less amused, takes out the stainless steel pot with a loud thunk./

T: Yeah,

it was.

/He turns on the stove and sets the water burbling. Without a kettle, Taewoong has a hard time managing,/

T: Ack!

/…But he eventually gets the tea ready in two mismatched mugs, and brings them out to Myungie. As he stands in the doorway, tray in hand, he seems taken aback by something./

T: There's a table right here.

/He says, referring to the well-loved plastic foldout table beside the sink. But Myungie was already sitting on the dirty ground in his designer silk-lined coat and supima cotton socks, unmoved by the concept of furniture. He seems decidedly comfortable there, though his feet are conspicuously pointed down, as if still trying to maintain some semblance of modesty./

M: Nah, let's just sit on the floor, Man. 

I'm more used to this. 

T: Okay, “Man”. 

Didn't know you were American now.

M: Hey, 

/Myungie starts looking around at the apartment, which can generously be described as unkempt, even by dorm standards. We see a screen door covered with mosquito netting, a flatscreen TV, a narrow doorway that could be for a bathroom or a bedroom./

M: Does it feel like the floor plan’s a little different? 

Like the room is smaller, 

or the walls are thicker, or something?

T: It's a completely different apartment from our old one. 

M: Yeah but, ours was directly below this one. 

3-34, 

And 2-34.

T: Oh yeah?...

/Taewoong is surprised at himself for missing something so obvious. Still…it’s been years. He and Myungie hadn’t lived here for close to a decade./ 

/He gingerly bends down to unload the tray of hot items./

T: …Maybe they finally fireproofed the building. 

Either that, or the walls are literally caving in…

/When Taewoong turns around, he sees that Myungie had flopped unceremoniously onto the ground with his entire body, even putting his ear to the ground./ 

T: Whoa! What are you -

M: Shhh. 

I’m trying to hear if those old "ghosts" are still there.

Man, that shit used to keep me up so late at night. 

/Taewoong stares at Myungie blankly for a moment. Though Myungie is sprawled out on the floor and clearly ridiculous, Taewoong momentarily feels something pinging around in his chest. That’s a profoundly unhelpful sensation right now, and he ignores it./

T: Okay, 

Well,

Maybe don't call it ghosts. 

It was probably just the underfloor heating. 

/He huffs, swivelling the tray around./

T: Here, get up. 

How long are you going to make me hold this thing!

M: Oop! 

Right away, Sir. 

/With deft motions akin to choreography, Taewoong quickly folds the napkin into a leaf./

[Design #1]

/It’s so impressive that Myungie can’t help but give a little seal clap!/

M: Wow! That is swaggy. 

Where’d you learn that from?

T: Same place you did,

the fuck are you talking about? 

We had to work at Three Sisters Sundae Gukbap that one year, 

to make ends meet.

…I got you the job??

/As Taewoong is saying this, he is already folding a second hapless napkin into a rabbit./

[Design #2]

M: I don't remember learning any posh-ass serving techniques, 

at any sundae gukbap restaurant! Ha! Ha!

T: Yeah well, 

maybe you weren't awake during training…

/Their two cups sit opposite one another, emitting chimneys of steam./

T: Anyway,

How come you're here too? 

I thought I had an hour to inspect the place. 

/Myungie pauses mid-drink in shock, and a bit of foam comes out of his mouth./

M: ! 

What, you’re…going to live here?

T: Well, no. 

My lil’ brother Seungho lives here, you remember him.

/For some reason, even mentioning Seungho makes Taewoong kind of irritated./

T: I was just going to make a temporary cot, for me and my equipment. 

/The equipment sits on the side in boxes. Some of it, like an electronic keyboard, microphone cables, and what looks like a Novation Launchpad, sit exposed./

M: Right, I heard about that.

Mr. Producer.

T: That’s what I’m thinking for now…

until the company leases a proper studio to me. 

/Myungie gives him a strange look, maybe out of pity, and Taewoong honestly can’t even argue./

M: "For now". 

Famous last words.

T: Yeah, I know. 

/Frigid winter sunlight streams through the windows. Taewoong decides to change the subject./

T: And…

What about you? 

/Myungie looks at him blankly. Taewoong tries again,/

T: Thinking of filming a reality TV show here, or something? 

Exposing the seedy underbelly of the idol trainee lifestyle? 

You know, I've heard it's a really juicy story, 

never been scooped anywhere.

M: Nah, it’s…

Seungho invited me. 

/The words hit Taewoong like a brick, and he actually laughs in shock./

T: Ha! 

...Wait, what, really?

M: Uh, yep!

/Taewoong’s mind swirls, and he seems to momentarily fall into the inferno of his own subconscious. Then he turns around and, as he does so often, curses out loud at his little brother’s lack of propriety./

T: That Seungho!!

Seriously, he doesn't understand anything!!

/Myungie continues,/

M: So I was supposed to meet him here, 

for dinner at 5, 

Then take him to see that circus musical that he wants to rewatch so badly,

/As he does, we pan over some of the gifts that Myungie brought in his bag: an extra-large ramyun, bottles of his favourite non-alcoholic cider, and…?? A mystery item appears in front of Taewoong’s eyes that almost seems to emit its own light./

M: But I figured

I'd come early and surprise him?

T: The fuck is that?? Oh my -

/Myungie is totally brushed aside as Taewoong rushes towards the sparkly. Indeed...it looks like...it is!!! A luxury Hanwoo steak set in its own special gold-tinted case!/

[h...h...hanwoo steak...]

/The delicately marbled slab of meat is visible through a viewing window, and the golden wraparound is embossed with an image of cows chilling in a picturesque field. Taewoong’s face is lightly reflected on the surface of the box, wavering - like his fragile ego. He can't be mad at a gift of Hanwoo./

/He immediately runs to the fridge. Various squeaks and groans follow as he makes room amongst the numerous probably expired food items, tossing many of them to the ground. From the other side of the passthrough, Myungie looks on, bemused and scratching the back of his ear./

T: C’mon! 

Get in there!

When did he last clean this thing? 

M: Sorry…

I would have told you I was in contact with your brother lately, 

but uh…

we’re not. 

/Taewoong covers his nose as he sifts past produce in varying states of decay./

T: T: Ugh! Shit…

No, that’s…

You hang out with my brother when I’m not around, that’s cool.

/He slams the fridge door shut. Then, pausing for a beat,/

T: …

Wait, 

You said 5 o’clock?

/A look at Myungie’s phone tells us that it’s 4:37PM. Taewoong is so angry that he can’t even sit. He gets up and paces, as Myungie remains comfortably seated on the floor, wearing a placid expression./

T: …He’s out of his mind. 

Why would he schedule us back to back, then keep you waiting? 

M: Maybe… 

He wanted to reverse surprise me.

By having you here.

/Myungie looks up at Taewoong from where he’s sitting, with warm eyes that seem to contain a question, or an invitation. For a moment Taewoong just stares uncomprehendingly, a little taken aback. Then, before he can examine those feelings too deeply - or before they can peer too deeply into him - he looks away./

T: I don't know what you're talking about. 

I'm calling him.

M: Look, Man, it's OK.

He could be picking up fresh groceries -

/But Taewoong has already dialed his brother’s number, and is grumbling audibly to himself./

T: Little brat!

Invites a top artist to his dorm then goes out to play, 

doesn't clean, 

doesn't even own a kettle - 

M: Listen, it’s really fine - 

/The phone emits a sharp beep, and Taewoong continues his tirade./

T: He’s not there. HEY!

It’s me.

Pick up your calls for fuck’s sake.

You like playing games with people, huh?

Leaving me with - 

Nevermind, I'll blast him on Kakao. 

/Taewoong ends the call with an audible click and is about to switch to a much less subtle text, but just then, a large hand reaches over and covers the screen./

M: No, 

don't scold him, Taewoong. 

T: …??

/Taewoong flinches and stares up at Myungie, who has managed to reach over his shoulder to grab the phone away from him, and who was now close enough to press into his back. Unfortunately this elicits a fresh wave of all-too-familiar and discombobulating feelings, including the feeling that some people are just way, way too tall./

T: Why the hell not?

/Myungie looks down at him calmly and then, with remarkable temerity, says,/

M: 'Cause I think he'd be sad if he knew we weren't friends anymore. 

/Myungie gently slips the phone back into Taewoong’s hand, as Taewoong stares back at him in shock and indignation./

/Typical Myungie. His old housemate, his fellow trainee for years, had actually said the quiet part out loud. And even though Taewoong had been thinking it, alluding to it, beating the proverbial bush with his scornful little stick…somehow, hearing Myungie say it so matter-of-factly was a million times worse. All Taewoong can do is hang his head in disbelief./

T: Hah!

…Tsk!

Sure. 

All right.